


My One And Only

by dilemma



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe - High School, Best Friends, First Kiss, High School Student Castiel, High School Student Dean, Implied/Referenced Abuse, Implied/Referenced Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-10-19
Updated: 2014-10-19
Packaged: 2018-02-21 18:08:11
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,063
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2477576
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dilemma/pseuds/dilemma
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dean finds himself in times of trouble and turns to Castiel for comfort.</p>
            </blockquote>





	My One And Only

He thinks that maybe things would be okay if the world was flat, oceans ended in the dead of space, so that he could stand on the edge and let himself fall. Let himself fly through the never-ending, always awing universe. He looks at the stars, a sadness in his eyes and he wishes he could speak to them, so he does. He wishes for his world to get better, to become flatter, to become simpler. He wishes he knew what he was doing, and he wishes that explanations could be given for all the things that in every logical way didn’t make sense. He wishes so hard that when he sees a star twinkle, move… he thinks that maybe things will be okay.

Dean rises from bed, his side hurting from the bruises of the previous night. The bruises of his father’s pain, the bruises from the loss of his mother. He accepts them without resistance. A silence envelops the household. Sam hasn’t been home in three years, living with Bobby. The deal was that Sam could live with their family friend, more like ‘uncle’ in their eyes, if Dean stayed with John to take care of him. Keep him okay. Yes, John was the one that needed protection and safety. He’s quick, grabbing a bagel, throwing things in his backpack and then sliding out the front door without so much of a sound. Just as he turns, Castiel is standing on the edge of the porch, leaning against the banister.

“Hello, Dean,” Castiel greets lightly and Dean laughs, ignoring the residual feeling of a fist into his side.

“Hey, Cas,” Dean responds, walking past him and nudging him lightly. “You miss the bus again?”

Castiel tilts his head, biting his lip and making a guilty face.

“You know I don’t mind driving you, man,” Dean says when Castiel is silent.

He catches a shrug out of the corner of his eye and it briefly reminds him of the wish he made as a child. The wish where his star moved. He clears his throat, looking forward and walking to the passenger door to open it up for Castiel.

“Thank you, Dean,” Castiel murmurs, sliding into the seat and tossing his backpack into the back.

Dean decides that they’re best friends. He’s never given it much thought before now, but it’s abundantly clear. Best friends, and friends in general, were never Dean’s forte, but he accepts Castiel’s flow into his life more gracefully than he’s accepted anything before. Castiel’s voice becomes a sound so specific that in a crowd, he could pick him out. Castiel’s hair becomes a mess that is only, and will ever be, characterized by the nervous habits of him running a hand through it. Castiel’s blue, blue eyes redefine what a favorite color means and creates a whole new realm of unsolved mysteries with the twitch of a brow. Castiel’s an enigma, but Dean doesn’t mind. In fact, he welcomes it with affection.

“You really wanna go to school today?” Dean asks, his new found realization of their friendship making Dean push new levels in their amount of spending time together.

“Not particularly,” Castiel answers, and Dean knows he has no idea what that question entails until Dean takes a left turn away from the school.

“Dean, the school’s back that way,” Castiel comments, a moment passes and Castiel settles in his seat. “I suppose we’re not going to school today.”

Dean can hardly contain his laugh, nodding. That’s all the confirmation Castiel needs and a small smile spreads across his face. A smile created by galaxies and Dean catches himself staring too long. A small swerve of the wheel and Dean’s back on track.

The drive is long, silent. Echoes of his life bounce around his head as he tries to figure what he should reveal to Castiel. Should he reveal anything at all? What if Castiel doesn’t think of them as best friends, or even friends at all?

Questions stretching from the back of Dean’s mind to the front begin to clutter and they wrap themselves around his brain, squeezing it down until Dean stops the car. He looks to his right and gestures out the window.

“Used to ride my bike out here all the time,” Dean exposes. “I would lay out in the field and watch the stars.”

Before a word can come out of Castiel’s mouth, he steps out of the car, walking out into the middle of the field and shoving his hands in his pockets. A few minutes pass, then he feels a presence at his side.

“Is there a reason you brought me here, Dean?” Castiel questions, looking over at him. This time, Castiel earns a shrug.

“I thought I could do it all alone,” Dean explains, tilting his head, watching the wheat sway. A small breeze threatens to knock Dean over because he feels as fragile and vulnerable as a sheet of paper. “Thought I could take care of my dad… thought I could get through school… thought I could do it all without anyone else, without help. I was wrong, Cas,” he continues, refusing to look over at the one person who reached out to him and see if he was angry or disappointed. He didn’t need more disappointment.

“Dean, you don’t have to do it by yourself,” Castiel says softly, touching Dean’s arm gently.

A reaction can be spontaneous. Heat and energy flooding in until the reactants snap, reforming, readjusting. Dean feels this way the moment Castiel’s fingertips lay against his skin. It sears through him, his skin tingling, neurons firing and he turns to Castiel. He cups Castiel’s cheek, pressing their lips together in a rush, in a lapse of judgment, in a split reaction.

It feels different. Good. Strange. Soft. Warm. Two atoms fusing together and Dean can’t stop himself as he steps closer.

He decides he wants more than a best friend.

They part. Dean inhales sharply and he returns to his original position beside Castiel. A silence floating between them, yet Dean can hear his heartbeat in the drums of his ears. He feels like he’s sinking. Falling. Then, he feels a hand slide down his arm, into his palm. Fingers intertwine and nothing needs to be said because Castiel is his star. And the world seems to make a little more sense.


End file.
